10 
THE COTTAGE GARDENER. 
Aprti, 1. 
the hen golden pheasant, and the male of the common sort; 
the result was two pheasants much resembling ours, still 
with badly tinted plumage, and with only a few yellow 
feathers on the head. These two young male hybrids having 
been put with common pheasant liens, from one was pro¬ 
duced a female chick which always remained unproductive, 
the other cock continued unproductive for four years that 
observations were made upon him.” 
M. Temminck gives a long and minute description of 
his hybrid bird, which it would be of little use to translate 
here, as no two such hybrids would probably be exactly 
alike. 
The chick of the silver pheasant, when first hatched, 
has not any very decided markings. The back is irregularly 
streaked with umber brown on a light fawn ground, after the 
manner of tortoise-shell, and the under parts arc light. The 
feet and legs are a pinky-yellow, the claws white; bill light 
horn colour; eyes large and full, and dark brown, with a 
lighter iris. From the outward corner of the eye is a 
narrow^ dark-brown stripe, extending downwards partly down 
the neck. When the chicks issue from the shell, the 
feather-cases of the quills are fully developed, with the 
feathers protruding from the tips of some of them. These, 
i as well as the wing coverts, grow with great rapidity, while 
the tail plumage makes no progress from the state of down. 
Thus the urgent wants of the creature are first provided 
for; the instruments of flight are given to it, and then, and 
not till then, superfluities of clothing and adornment are 
added. At this early stage their diet seems to consist 
entirely of insects and green vegetables. 
It does not appear a good practice to hatch common 
chickens in the same brood with little pheasants, as is so 
generally done with turkeys, for they devour the delicate 
ingredients of their mess, such as ant’s eggs and minced 
meat, with so much greediness, as materially to diminish 
the quantity left for the deliberate-eating pheasant-chicks. 
They, in fact, starve them to death, by appropriating so large 
a share of their indispensable allowance of dainties. One 
of these is fresh beef chopped fine. The chicks are apt to 
refuse groats and farinaceous diet, but are better pleased 
with ant’s eggs, together with hard-boiled eggs minced with 
lettuce-leaves. For adult birds, buckwheat is good food; 
but they do well on wheat and barley, with a few white peas 
occasionally, in the early part of the year. 
Mr. Blyth informs me that numerous pheasants, too, 
have the same habit (as the fowls mentioned in Ornamental 
Poultry, p. ’178, second edition), of retiring to take a nap at 
noon; “but,” he adds, “you must know what an Indian 
jungle is, before you venture to pot them, at, roost, as you 
suggest! ” The caution is kindly meant, if the pheasant 
jungles are frequented by the same pleasant company as 
those where the still more gorgeous pea-fowl dwell. These, 
he says, “are abundant in Indian jungles; and wherever 
this bird and the Axis deer are very numerous, there tigers 
are sure to abound also.” 
(To he continued.) 
PRACTICAL OBSERVATIONS ON THE 
MANAGEMENT OF BEES. 
By Henry Wenmcm Neuman , Esq. 
(Continuedfrom page 407, J'ol. vii.) 
INSTINCT OF BEES. 
Apibus partem divina: mentis .— Virgil. 
(To bees is given of the divine mind.) 
Tins is a point on which there are different opinions; 
some naturalists degrading the insects’ faculties as if they 
I were mere automatons. Certain it is, however, that Divine 
wisdom has endowed these insects with most extraordinary 
j acuteness. No bee which is unable to work is suffered to 
remain an hour in the hive ; any bodily defect in a worker is 
I instantly perceived, and it is expelled. How often have I 
placed a disabled bee at the entrance, but the moment the 
! guards come up to him, his unfortunate situation is known, 
and he is again carried out and dropped—if a stranger, 
instantly killed. 
In showery weather, when the bees are knocked down and 
benumbed, I have picked up hundreds at different times, 
and placed them near the door. The guards immediately 
run out, and as quickly offer each beuumbed bee every 
assistance, and all allow it to “ pass muster ” if belonging to 
the hive. This quickness of perception is astonishing, and 
it is exemplified in the same manner if an attempt be made 
to introduce a strange bee from another hive, which they 
immediately attack and kill. 
I mentioned in another place my successful endeavour 
to introduce a strange queen into a hive which had been 
ready to swarm for a fortnight; at any other time the 
stranger would have been instantly expelled; but mark the 
unerring instinct of these wonderful insects—the guards 
rush out, surround her, and are in the act of seizing her; 
the bees know tlioy are in want of a queen, and she is 
admitted. Is this like a machine ? A most intelligent man 
whom 1 employ, who has kept bees for twenty years, was 
present, and saw me take the strange queen out of the 
dying stock, and place it in the other, and expressed his as¬ 
tonishment, having never seen it done before with success ; 
and he was still more astonished when he visited my garden 
next day, and found that this “long-hanging-out stock ” had 
thrown a fine swarm. That the Great Architect of the uni¬ 
verse has endowed the insect tribe with more wisdom than 
their size seems to warrant is quite clear. 
In that beautiful book, Kirby and Spence’s Introduction to 
Entomology , it is advanced that the bee finds its way to the 
hive by instinct merely! this, with due deference to the ; 
book (which every naturalist should read), is a mistake. I 1 
will endeavour to prove that it is entirely from observation, 
or, as some of the phrenologists would term it, from the 
organ of locality being most strongly implanted and deve¬ 
loped. The first exit of a bee from the hive is made with 
the greatest caution, and it is a long time hovering about 
the hive before it departs; and, when il does, its journeys : 
are very short until it has been out several times, when ' 
it becomes acquainted with the locality, and then goes out, 
and returns quickly. 
I was first convinced of this by my passion for wild bees 
when a boy, being fond of taking their nest, and colonising 
them in my garden. On opening my hives and boxes in 
the morning, after their imprisonment all night, nothing i 
was so gratifying as to see these humble bees come out, 
generally one at a time, making great observation of all the 
objects round them, so as to know their way back. 
The instinct of bees is shown in the West Indies. In 
Barbadoes the bees never collect honey in the same quan¬ 
tities as in this climate, for in the tropical climate the flowers 
abound all the year round. This is another proof of strong 
intuitive knowledge of climate. 
SENSES OF BEES. 
Many writers have asserted that bees have not the faculty 
of hearing, but this is no doubt a mistake. If not a mistake, 
what a deal of trouble has been taken by many people, from 
time immemorial, in making the world believe that bees do 
hear, by beating frying-pans, bells, and kettles! That they 
are dumb completely when bereft of their wings there is no 
doubt, the same as nearly all other insects. 
That intelligent writer, Dr. Bevan, is of opinion that their 
sight is defective, from their not finding their way into the 
hive sometimes so quickly as they ought; but when it is 
considered that in a populous hive (of a circular form) 
hundreds of bees are born every day, that have each to 
make t he same observations as to the locality, and the whole 
country round, it is not to be wondered at; besides, there 
are other reasons—bees work so hard, that they frequently 
return in loaded, and in a most exhausted state, to the hive. 
In Kirby and Spence’s Introduction, \ ol. ii., page 204, a 
strange mistake is made respecting the instinct of bees. It 
says, “ The bees do not usually sting me, but I remember 
one day last year, when the asparagus was in blossom, which 
a large number were attending, I happened to go between 
my asparagus beds, which discomposed them so much, that 
I was obliged to retreat with hasty stops, and some of them 
flew after me; L escaped, however, unstung.” Whoever 
wrote this knew nothing of the habits of bees when away 
from their hives, as they never sting when disturbed at their 
pasture. Any one may venture into a field of Dutch clover 
in full bloom, where ten thousand bees are congregated, and 
